<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>What Am I Supposed to do Now? by RamsettParkSwings</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122731">What Am I Supposed to do Now?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamsettParkSwings/pseuds/RamsettParkSwings'>RamsettParkSwings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ben and Leslie being there for each other [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Parks and Recreation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:42:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamsettParkSwings/pseuds/RamsettParkSwings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie lost the recall election, but she knows she hasn't peaked. Ben, on the other hand, was having a hard time shaking off the drunken conversation he and Leslie had about their political careers. Leslie wants to help him, but she needs to understand the depth of Ice Town's impact on Ben.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ben and Leslie being there for each other [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Back to Minnesota</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There’s still the golf park funding and the school lunch bill. Babe! I can’t believe I didn’t realize this before. There are still so many projects I can squeeze in.” Leslie busied herself on their couch, poring over three binders worth of projects.</p><p>    Normally, Ben would be content to listen to Leslie discuss the intricacies of her position as City Councilor for hours. Now, though, he was confused. Not confused that Leslie was taking her recall so well. Her resilience and optimism were just two of many things he loved about her. Rather, he was confused that she could so easily let go of their conversation two nights ago regarding their careers.</p><p>
  <em> “...and now I work for a candy charity. Oh God, did I peak when I was 18?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “There it is. Drink up,” Leslie responded. </em>
</p><p>  All roads lead to Ice Town, Ben thought, and his attempts to cheer Leslie up were no different. He almost asked himself why he was still reeling two days later, but he knew. “There it is,” Leslie had answered. Leslie, who had a plaque made for April on her very first week of work because she saw her potential. Who had Friend Week presents for him and Ann ready before they had even made their bonding known to her. Who was a talented, intelligent, amazing judge of character who would never say anything harsh if it didn’t need to be said. </p><p>  Who hadn’t bothered correcting him about peaking. </p><p>Sure, they’d had a couple drinks, but they both certainly had their memories of that night intact. And it had been two days.</p><p>“You okay, honey? You had that same look in your eye when you rewatched the prequels last year.”</p><p><em> Be honest, </em>Ben chided himself. He took a seat next to Leslie, unsure of how to start.</p><p> By now he was sure his discomfort was obvious. Leslie placed all three binders on the floor and turned to him. “Are you okay? What’s on your mind?”</p><p>   He felt the moisture leave his tongue. What was he so worried about? This was Leslie. They’d had many tough conversations before. But those conversations hadn’t come at such emotional times. Tough as she was, Leslie was in for a difficult last few weeks in office, and who was he to add to his wife’s stress?</p><p>“I-” he paused. “I guess I’ve been feeling a bit- I don’t know- I’m not-” he cut himself off.</p><p>“Babe, whatever it is you can tell me,” Leslie assured him, her eyes soft with concern.</p><p>“I guess I’ve just been-” he inhaled, planning his next few words carefully. “I’m a bit shocked at how quickly you’re rebounding from this.” A lie, and he knew she could tell. “Are you sure you’re okay?”</p><p>  She squeezes his hand gently. “If you don’t want to tell me right now, that’s okay. But I’m worried.”</p><p> </p><p> Later that night, he thought she’d forgotten.</p><p>  As they climbed into bed, Leslie reminded him of what he himself had managed to keep out of his mind for a few hours.</p><p>“If you want to talk, Ben, I’m here for you.”</p><p>“I know, honey.” He swallowed. “Tomorrow.”</p><p>  Ice Town, as it turns out, does not take well to being bottled up. A couple of hours after descending into sleep, Ben found himself in Minnesota.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Spotting Dry Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ben tells Leslie what's on his mind. But he wanted more than the same Ice Town conversation over and over again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How do you plan to recoup the jobs lost in this crisis?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What exactly will you be cutting to help raise government revenue after you sunk the town’s money-” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you have to say to people who-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How do you intend-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>   The overlapping voices of the reporters were piling, reverberating in his ears even before they finished their sentences. The knot in Ben’s throat stole any chance of a response.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m dreaming, he thought. He had Ice Town dreams at least a couple times a month, though honestly he was surprised it wasn’t more frequent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-I’m gonna cut the- well actually I’ll probably raise taxes a bit-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Ben woke before he had to hear the dream reporters respond to that. The sweat on his forehead matted his hair. The thumping in his chest was almost as loud as the echo of the reporters’ questions. There was no way he was going back to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He walked as steadily as he could to the living room and sat on the couch, not wanting to wake Leslie. The chill of fall was in the house, even though all the windows were closed. He felt clammier than ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He tried to resist the tightness he felt in his throat and chest, but that of course only intensified the sensation. The sobs that followed were much like the 'episodes', as his mother and previous therapist had called them, that he'd been having for years. Even before Ice Town. They descended upon him like a wave, leaving him drenched, sputtering, and disoriented one at a time, and whenever he felt himself closer to dry ground, there was another one just beyond the horizon, moving faster than he could ever hope to swim away from. Unlike his sobs at this very moment, the episodes had the decency to mostly retreat now that he had placed hundreds of miles between himself and Partridge, Minnesota. The ocean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He wouldn’t have noticed Leslie enter the living room had she not turned on their lamp. She sat next to him on the couch and wrapped her arms around him without saying a word. He doesn’t know how long he sat there with his face buried in Leslie’s shirt, but he knew that once his brain and body allowed him emotional release, he was powerless to stop it in any short period of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wave receded, letting him breathe and look Leslie in the eye. She said nothing, gently encouraging him to speak first as she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Ice Town,” he said after a deep breath. “All of this recall business has me thinking about Ice Town. And you, you’re so strong Leslie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave him a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got recalled two days ago and now you’re as determined as ever. I was mayor two decades ago and I still wake up in the middle of the night from the guilt nightmares.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t the first time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed. “Having a nightmare about Ice Town or having a breakdown because of a nightmare about Ice Town? Either way, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben. You made a bad financial decision when you were a teenager. I know it was rough on you, but you need to forgive yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he didn’t respond, Leslie figured that he’d probably told himself that many times over the years to no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I know that probably isn’t helpful,” she said.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Come on, Knope. Think. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Ben shifted. “It wasn’t just Ice Town,” he said quietly. “Well it is, but it was also… you.” He gave her a tentative glance. Leslie froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? Oh Ben, I’m so sorry. Here I was moping about the recall when I should’ve realized this is a touchy-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he cut her off. “On Halloween, when we were talking about peaking. I said that I peaked and-” He paused. “You never corrected me. I know it’s stupid and you didn’t mean it but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben I’m so sorry. It's not stupid. I was so wrapped up in my own pity that I didn’t even listen to what I was saying to you. You have not peaked by any measure. You have done so much as a government worker, a husband, and just an all around person since you were eighteen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he said. Leslie’s apology didn’t completely loosen the tension in his body, but at least he knew her words really did come from a place of drunken confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready to come back to bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben started to stand when he paused himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What better time than now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, actually, there’s something else.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t believe I’m about to do this now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself. “I should have told you this a while ago. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Leslie once again took his hand in hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ice Town really… messed me up. Beyond what I’ve told you, I mean. I was already not in great shape by the time it happened.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Curtain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The description of Ben's pain as a wave was inspired by a beautifully written description of grief on reddit by u/gsnow . It's an amazing post, check it out: https://www.reddit.com/r/Assistance/comments/hax0t/my_friend_just_died_i_dont_know_what_to_do/c1u0rx2/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>  Leslie had a sinking feeling that Ben was going to tell her what she’d always suspected. Those times when Ben recounted his childhood, or his parents’ divorce, and especially his desire to run for office in the first place (“I needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>around me to change.”), his voice would soften. His eyes would avoid hers, but that made it even more obvious that the spark had left them. The discussion would inevitably end in haste, apparently in realization of what he was revealing to her, and he would instead turn it around to questions about her own Pawnee upbringing. She’d never pointed these things out to him. She didn’t want to prod and steamroll as she had the tendency to do, but now, sitting on the couch moments after comforting her sobbing husband at 3:22 AM, she felt the pit of regret descend into her stomach and take root.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a regular therapy goer as a kid. Every Wednesday, at 5:00 PM, my mom would drop me off at Dr. Doven’s office. The psychologist the next town over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Leslie gripped his forearms. “I’m glad you’re telling me this, Ben. But this doesn’t change anything about how I see you. If I’m being honest, I’m not surprised. You never gave the impression that you were the happiest kid in town before you were mayor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think maybe I was trying to tell you without telling you. Therapy and depression were basically words of a foreign language in my town at the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you had to go to the next town? Your town didn’t have a psychologist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben looked at her, his eyes welling up. “No, they did.” He hoped she’d understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why- oh,” she said quietly. “Your parents didn’t want anyone to know.” She seethed internally as she imagined a teenage Ben staring out of a car window as his mother drove him out of town. As if that had to be some big secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I ran for mayor. When I started feeling a little better, I couldn’t stand to go back to how things had been. I couldn’t stand feeling like a secret outcast the whole time, even though I had friends and seemed to fit in. If I could win the highest office in my town, then maybe I could shake the feeling for good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a small smile. “You can see how well that turned out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can see how well</span>
  <em>
    <span> you </span>
  </em>
  <span>turned out,” she joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He told her everything he could. He told her about his trouble sleeping at night and getting out of bed in the morning in the months following his impeachment. And if he was being honest, several days in the last couple of years as campaigns and elections re-entered his life, and brought with them the waves that he desperately wanted to escape from. He tried to joke about how the one upside of the Ice Town aftermath was that he could do what he often did before, but for acceptable reasons this time: stay in bed all day, hide from the public, and do little to nothing until after midnight, when his brain obliged in releasing the little energy he had into his body (shockingly, this did not elicit laughter from Leslie). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He told her about the invisible curtain that had entered his life as a child to separate him from the rest of the world. He told her that tonight had not been an isolated incident. He’d had similar breakdowns in that very same living room at night at least 4 times prior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m much better now than I was 20 years ago,” he assured her when he saw her face fall. “ But I don’t know Les, what am I supposed to do now? Ice Town was a disaster, I’ll never compensate or apologize enough for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… no, you won’t. You will never be able to undo Ice Town, or make it up to the people who lost their jobs. Those lives are permanently altered. There’s nothing you can do for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this have a point?” he asked, but he was smiling now, with relief apparent in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t undo what you did. But you can forgive yourself. I know that’s obvious and I know you’ve tried. But I mean it. Really. Forgive yourself. I want to help you with that, but this is something that you really have to work on. In the meantime, think about who you’ve helped. If Ice Town hadn’t happened, think of all the towns in Indiana that would’ve gone bankrupt because you didn’t become an auditor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, none, probably. The government would’ve just hired someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair point. But we wouldn’t have met, and I can tell you for a fact that that’s at least two people whose lives are better because of Ice Town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s true,” he smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when we have kids, they’ll owe their lives to Ice Town. If you somehow undid Ice Town, you’d effectively be Butterfly Effect-ing our future kids out of existence. Is that what you want, Wyatt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, he laughed. How did he get so lucky? According to Leslie, Ice Town. She was right, he supposed. He had no doubts about the butterfly effect, and Ice Town </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if anything, set off the chain of events that led him to the wonderful life he has now. It wouldn’t be easy to unlearn 20 years of guilt, but there wasn’t anyone he’d rather do this with than the blonde-haired goofball 8 inches away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He gently squeezed her hand. “Thanks, snugbug. I’m glad I told you. I should’ve told you all of this a while ago.” Ben made a motion to stand, but Leslie knew she couldn’t let this opportunity slip past her. Unlike Ben, she could try to compensate for her mistake: not digging further when she knew there was something there. Especially when something as precious as her husband’s well being was at stake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. I know where you stand on Ice Town, but what about everything from before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ‘curtain’ I mentioned? Well, mostly, it isn’t there. I mean, I still feel it sometimes. There are days where I feel like I’m living almost entirely in my own head. And I’m just acutely aware of every single interaction I have, and it can feel more like I’m watching a movie of my life than living it. It can be… tiring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like it,” she nodded sympathetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess the worst thing is the haze I get sometimes. My head gets so heavy and it feels like…” he stopped to think, then gave a small laugh. “A bowling ball full of maple syrup or something. And I’m just exhausted the whole day, even if I’d slept well. It’s like sleep deprivation from hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Leslie should’ve been heartbroken to hear all of this. And 99% of her was! It broke her to hear this about Ben. Sweet, dorky Ben who deserved a healthier adolescence and a town that wouldn’t have made him feel so bad about his struggle. But the other 1% of her felt a certain pride for him; despite the grim topic at hand, she had never seen Ben so… relieved. Even after they got married last year, and they became as close as they had ever been, she’d never seen him just completely let go like that. He truly wasn’t holding anything back, and she could tell he was aware of the weight slipping off too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate that you go through this. A bowling ball full of maple syrup? Though that does combine two of my favorite things, bowling and breakfast food,” she conceded, choosing her words carefully, “I don’t think that’s normal, honey. I think you should see a doctor. In fact, I have some suggestions. Don’t move!” she bolted off the couch toward the bookshelf across the room. She returned with a thin, blue binder from the shelf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ben Wyatt’s Comprehensive Mental Health Improvement Bonanza’</span>
  </em>
  <span>? How- when did you even make this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right about the same time I should have asked you what was going on,” Leslie sighed as she opened the binder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you honey, it means a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, step one- open up to Leslie, check! Step two-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leslie, I’m excited about the binder, but can we maybe wait a bit? You know, until the sun’s out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well sure, but what do you want to do in the next five hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  He smiled as the realization dawned on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh-back to bed- yeah good call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Ben did intend to read the binder. Tomorrow. He mildly wondered what it would direct him to do. Therapy and a doctor’s appointment were definitely in the cards (Leslie knew when to step back and trust professionals), but would she ask him to take up yoga? Or scrapbooking?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Either way, that would wait till morning, because right now, he wasn’t all that anxious about the next steps. Right now, he was going to cozy up in bed with his amazing wife, hold her close, and drift off to sleep with the comfort that someone had peeked behind the curtain.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I really wanted to read more emotional vulnerability on Ben's part, so I had fun writing this and I hope you liked it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>